Found this Poem on family friend poems. Its written by someone named Michael (who goes by the name “country1” on the forum)
what’s the purpose behind it all… what’s the point to the things I put down on paper?
I write constantly it seems about all the things that I’d much rather forget…
day after day… relentlessly reopening old wounds that will never have a chance to heal,
sitting here year after year… reliving every hurtful moment… re-shedding every tear.
and for what…? sympathy? so that someone I’ll never know can share in my sorrow?
sometimes I think maybe that’s why… at other times – I really don’t have the slightest clue.
night after night – I write about moving on… promising to start anew with the coming dawn.
but, I know that I won’t… I need my pain, my pain defines me – makes me who “I” am.
without my pain… how would the rest of the world ever know how much I once loved you?
who’d know… that not a day goes by – that your name doesn’t still cross my lips?
nothing I write will bring you back… or stop the river of tears that flow from my dreams.
the void in my heart will never be filled by the words the rampage through my mind,
and time – will be no kinder to the constant wondering of… “what if you were still here”?
what would’ve come of the time that I’ve spent sitting here… writing of my pain?
would I have passed this time… writing for you great tales of endless love and devotion?
promising from this moment on… to begin and end each day that follows – with you by my side.
using a thousand words just to try and describe all that I feel in a single moment spent in your arms
telling lustful tales of things even the boldest of lovers will only whisper about late at night.
or, perhaps it would be nothing quite so bold or so grand… just a few words telling a tale of love.
just one man’s untarnished vision of the world that surrounds him… and the dreams he has.
whimsical stories of all the simple pleasures found even in something as small as a smile,
singing the praises of love… not yet knowing of the things that exist on the other side of happiness.
but, such is not the way things are now… now there is only the pain of remembering… … yesterday.
no more hopes for the future, only burning memories of what once was – when you were here.
what are memories compared pain… what is “once loved” without pain to remind me of how much?
why remember an embrace… when I have my empty arms to remind me of all they once held?
so… why do I write all the things I do? why do I surround myself with what you left me with?
“day after day… relentlessly reopening old wounds that will never have a chance to heal,
sitting here year after year… reliving every hurtful moment… re-shedding every tear.”
I do it not out of sorrow, nor for sympathy… I do it – because when you left… I was still in love.
- A Thousand Pains (Rough Draft of new Poem) (hauntedaxiom.wordpress.com)
- Swallowing tears (rhythmaticlife.wordpress.com)
- You Can’t Lose Something You Never Had (dianereedwiter.wordpress.com)
- Short Poems 1 (daphnegan.wordpress.com)
- Poem about Self Pity-Physical Pain (grannyslittleprojects.wordpress.com)
- “Let the hard things in life break you. Let them affect you. Let them change you.” (elephantjournal.com)
- It hurts. (gentlyspeaking.wordpress.com)
- what causes me to fill page after page… with my pain? (forums.familyfriendpoems.com/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=38642)